thern wall is
divided only by a street, and having a vacant lot on the east. The
building was wholly detached, making it a comparatively easy matter to
guard the prison securely with a small force and keep every door and
window in full view from without. As an additional measure of safety,
prisoners were not allowed on the ground-floor, except that in the
daytime they were permitted to use the first floor of the middle
section for a cook-room. The interior embraced nine large
warehouse-rooms 105 x 45, with eight feet from each floor to ceiling,
except the upper floor, which gave more room, owing to the pitch of the
gable roof. The abrupt slant of the hill gives the building an
additional story on the south side. The whole building really embraces
three sections, and these were originally separated by heavy blank
walls. The Confederates cut doors through the walls of the two upper
floors, which comprised the prisoners' quarters, and they were thus
permitted to mingle freely with each other; but there was no
communication whatever between the three large rooms on the first floor.
Beneath these floors were three cellars of the same dimensions as the
rooms above them, and, like them, divided from each other by massive
blank walls. For ready comprehension, let these be designated the east,
middle, and west cellars. Except in the lofts known as "Streight's room"
and "Milroy's room," which were occupied by the earliest inmates of
Libby in 1863, there was no furniture in the building, and only a few of
the early comers possessed such a luxury as an old army blanket or a
knife, cup, and tin plate. As a rule, the prisoner, by the time he
reached Libby, found himself devoid of earthly goods save the meager and
dust-begrimed summer garb in which he had made his unlucky campaign.

At night the six large lofts presented strange war-pictures, over which
a single tallow candle wept copious and greasy tears that ran down over
the petrified loaf of corn-broad, Borden's condensed-milk can, or
bottle in which it was set. The candle flickered on until "taps," when
the guards, with unconscious irony shouted, "Lights out!"--at which
signal it usually disappeared amid a shower of boots and such other
missiles as were at hand. The sleepers covered the six floors, lying in
ranks, head to head and foot to foot, like prostrate lines of battle.
For the general good, and to preserve something like military precision,
these ranks (especially when col